The Impossibility of Emma-Jean Sloman
by Mariadoria
Summary: And how she effectively managed to bamboozle the Doctor across his many incarnations.


A sharp knock cut through the comfortable silence of the TARDIS. The Doctor's aptly named 'attack eyebrows' rose. He didn't know how it was possible that someone was knocking on the door. He was currently parked on the moon, in the year 1872. As far as he knew, he was the moon's only current resident. If there was another resident, they could keep to themselves. He wasn't going to be giving out any sugar.

Unfortunately for whoever was knocking on the door, the Doctor was in a mighty good strop at the failure of his latest attempt at art. If there was one thing he couldn't get right in this incarnation, it was drawing. The lines always went wonky, the limbs all out of whack. He just couldn't seem to get it right.

The pounding on the door began anew, an incessant racket that ground on his nerves, lighting the short fuse that was his temper. The Doctor clamped his teeth together and continued petulantly glaring at the roundels impressed into the walls. He was determined to stay where he was. Still, the banging continued. Eventually, it became too much for him to bare.

He leaped up out of his chair and strode angrily over to the door. He yanked it open and laid eyes on whoever was knocking on the doors of his TARDIS.

"You ever heard of privacy, lass?"

The young woman outside his door, who looked quite familiar, though he couldn't place where he'd seen her before, looked to be in pretty bad shape. Her dress was torn, the bottom singed, still smoking slightly. Her eyes were wide with fear, her frizzy hair wild and untamed, floating around her head. She was clutching her torso, frantically rubbing her arms up and down, clearly trying to find some semblance of warmth.

"You're on the moon. I don't think privacy applies here."

And with that, she shoved him aside and barged into the TARDIS, which hummed in discontent. The Doctor made a strange noise, both in disbelief and indignation. Who did this woman think she was, pushing past him into his TARDIS? They were on the moon, sure, but that didn't mean she shouldn't ask permission.

"Excuse me, who are you?" At the moment, that seemed to be the only logical question to ask.

"Who are you?" she retaliated. Of course she had to throw it back at him. It wouldn't be a normal day for him without meeting a spunky woman, would it now?

"I'm the Doctor. You're in my TARDIS."

"So that's what it's called." She ran a finger over the console. "Interesting. I thought the name would be more elegant, though." She sniffed slightly, almost in distaste. The Doctor scoffed. This young lady didn't seem very miffed with her current situation, which was normally enough to stop a human's cognitive functions for a minute at least. This time, though, she was acting as though this was perfectly normal. Perhaps that was the story. She could just be a very talented actor. It was time for some prying, the Doctor thought.

"So, how did you get here?"

"Hmm?" She didn't seem to be listening to him. Instead, she was leaning up against the console, pulling a battered notebook and ballpoint pen out of a well concealed pocket in voluminous skirts of her singed dress. She began scribbling down notes, occasionally glancing up to look around the expansive console room. The Doctor blinked. A ballpoint pen in 1872? There was definitely something strange going on. "Get where?"

"The moon. My TARDIS."

"Oh, yes. That."

"How can you be so nonchalant about it?" The Doctor was genuinely puzzled now. "You're on the moon."

"Yes, I know. It was where I planned to be. Keep up, old man." She walked forward and smartly rapped him on his noggin. "Honestly, men can be so slow sometimes." She snapped the notebook shut and put it back in her pockets. "I meant to go to the moon. I must say, my experiment did succeed."

"How could you have this technology in 1872?"

The woman smiled, her brown eyes crinkling round the edges. "It was given to me, by a strange woman in strange clothes. She was accompanied by an even stranger man, who wore a long coat and had frankly ridiculous sideburns."

The Doctor was suddenly overrun by an onslaught of memories. His eyes widened. _He remembered now._

"Is your name Emma-Jean Sloman?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, how did you know?"

The Doctor sighed into his hands. Of course the Emma-Jean he knew was involved in some possibly paradoxical time traveling shenanigans even before she met him for the 'first' time. Or, so he'd thought. It turned out that there were more sides to her story than she had told him all those years ago.

"This is more complicated than I thought it would be."

"Most things are."

"Well, you're not wrong."

"So, what are you bursting at the seams to tell me?"

"I am not."

"You clearly are."

"Fine." The Doctor tried to phrase it in a way she would understand. "I've met you before. But I didn't look like this. And you were wearing more...modern clothes."

Emma-Jean's eyes widened. "Wow. That sounds crazy. Usually, I would send you off to the psych ward. But, with all the unexplainable things I've seen, plus the fact that I'm on the moon in a strange alien capsule with a dumb name, I can get behind that."

"Alright, then."

"So, when do I go and meet you for the 'first' time?"

"Now, I guess."

"Good. The sooner I can get back to Earth, the better. And if it means I have to travel through time to get there, sobeit."

"You certainly take things in your stride, don't you?"

"It's one of my best qualities. Now, where is the wardrobe? I presume you have one."

"Yes, I do. Follow me."

And that was how the Doctor met Emma-Jean Sloman again, though for her it was the first time. He couldn't help but wonder how he found himself in these situations. Then again, he thought to himself with a wry grin, he was the Doctor. He should just accept it.

* * *

_Written for __**octaviaxanadu. **__She's just posted her very first fanfiction. Go check it out, it's really, really good. I highly recommend it. She gave me the idea for this, so thank you octaviaxanadu. I think I may continue this and make it into a mini-series of one shots. I really like the idea, which is why I have left it open ended._

_Sincerely,  
Mariadoria_


End file.
